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sxs         THE  STAGE  GUILD  PLAYS        s^ 


HERO  OF  SANTA  MARIA 

By  KENNETH  SAWYER  GOODMAN  and  BEN  HECHT 


NEW  YORK  a>e  FRANK  SHAT  ^  PUBLISHER 


Plays   Worth   Reading 


THE  HERO  OF  SANTA  MARIA     -    A  Comedy  in  One  Act      .50 

By  K.  S.  Goodman  and  Ben  Hecht 
THE  WONDER  HAT         -        -        A  Harlequinade  in  One  Act      .50 

By  K.  S.  Goodman  and  Ben  Hecht 
THE  GREEN  SCARF        -        -        -        A  Comedy  in  One  Act      .50 

By  K.  S.  Goodman 

THREE  WISHES        .        -        -        -        A  Comedy  in  One  Act      .50 

By  Thomas  Wood  Stevens 


BLACK 'ELL A  Play  in  One  Act      .50 

By  Miles  Malleson 
BEFORE  BREAKFAST  -        -       -        A  Play  in  One  Act      .35 

By  Eugene  O'Neill 
ANOTHER  WAY  OUT         ...        A  Satire  in  One  Act      .35 

By  Lawrence  Langer 
THE  LAST  STRAW       ....        A  Play  in  One  Act      .35 

By  Bosworth  Crocker 
LOVE  OF  6nE'S  neighbor        -       -     A  Satire  in  One  Act      .35 

By  L.  Andreyev 

POLLY  OF  POGUE'S  RUN    -  An  Historical  Play  in  One  Act      .35 

By  W.  O.  Bates 


THE  MORNINGSIDE  PLAYS 

HATTIE:  a  drama By  Elva  De  Pue 

ONE  A  DAY:  a  comedy By  Caroline  Briggs 

MARKHEIM:  a  dramatization  -        -        -         By  Zeflah  MacDonald 

THE  HOME  OF  THE  FREE:  a  comedy      -       By  E.  L.  Reizenstein 

(Introduction  by  Barrett  H.  Clark)        -        Paper,     .75 


FRANK  SHAY         -        -         NEW  YORK 


THE  STAGE  GUILD  PLAYS  NO.   I 


The  HERO  of 
SANTA  MARIA 

A    RIDICULOUS    TRAGEDY 

IN  ONE  ACT  BY 

KENNETH  SAWYER  GOODMAN 

AND  BEN  HECHT 


FRANK  SHAY     .    .    .    NEW  YORK 


LOAN  STACK 

COPYRIGHT,   1920,  by  FRANK  SHAY 

All  Rights  Reserved 

Characters 

NATHAN   FISHER (Known   as    "Nate") 

MARTIN   FISHER (Known   as    "Marty") 

ELMIRA  FISHER 

EDWARD  MARTIN  FISHER 

(Known    as    "Toady") 

JAMES  MERRYWEATHER  HINES 

(Known  as  the  "Squire,"   or  "Heinie") 

BERNARD  R  FOSS 
THEODORE  Q.  WILKINSON 

The  Hero  of  Saxta  I\Iaria  was  originally  presented  by  the 
Washington  Square  Players,  at  the  Comedy  Theatre.  Xew 
York,  on  the  night  of  February  12th.   1917. 


NOTE:    READ  CAREFULLY 

The  acting  rights  of  this  play  are  reserved  by  the  author. 
Performance  is  strictly  forbidden  unless  his  express  con- 
sent, or  that  of  his  representatives,  has  first  been  obtained, 
and  attention  is  called  to  the  penalties  provided  by  law  for 
any  infringement  of  liis  rights,  as  follows: 

"Sec.  4966 : — Any  person  publicly  performing  or  representing 
any  dramatic  or  musical  composition  for  which  copyright  has  been  ob- 
tained, without  the  consent  of  the  proprietor  of  said  dramatic  or  musi- 
cal composition  or  his  heirs  and  assigns,  shall  be  liable  for  damages 
therefor,  such  damages  in  all  cases  to  be  assessed  at  such  sum,  not  less 
than  one  hundred  dollars  for  the  first  and  fifty  dollars  for  every  subse- 
quent performance,  as  to  the  court  shall  appear  to  be  just.  If  the  un- 
lawful performance  and  representation  be  wilful  and  for  profit,  such 
person  or  persons  shall  be  guilty  of  a  misdemeanor,  and  upon  convic- 
tion be  imprisoned  for  a  period  not  exceeding  one  year." — U.  S.  Re- 
vised   Statutes,   Title    60,    Chap.    3. 

Applications  for  permission  to  produce 
THE  HERO  OF  SAXTA  MARIA  must  be 
made  to  Frank  Shay,  26-28  Horatio  St.. 
Xew  York.  X'o  performance  may  be  given 
without   his   consent. 

COMPLETE  LIST  OF  PLAYS  UPOX 
REQUEST 


1^4 


'''^^  d 


THE  HERO  OF  SANTA  MARIA 

f 

The  Scene  is  the  living  room  of  the  Fisher  home.  :  A  scrti^         ^ 
pulously  neat  room   of  the  late  horse-hair  and  ivax  floiver 
period. 

At  the  hack  is  the  "front  door"  and  near  it  a  zvindow 
looking  towards  the  street.  At  the  left  is  a  door  leading 
into  Marty's  bed-room,  and  at  the  right  a  door  leading  into 
a  room  sacred  to  Nate. 

Over  Marty's  door  is  a  printed  sign  "Trespassers  unll  be 
prosecuted  to  the  full  extent  of  the  law."  On  the  right  zvall 
is  a  crayon  portrait  of  Nate  in  G.  A.  R.  uniform.  The  uni- 
form is  draped  with  small  American  flags. 

In  the  center  of  the  room  is  a  table  with  two  stiff  chairs 
beside  it.  There  are  also  articles  of  furniture,  including  an- 
other small  table  with  a  drawer  in  it.  Among  the  knick- 
knacks  on  the  center  table  is  a  plush  covered  family  album. 

The  time  is  about  ten  in  the  morning  of  a  pleasant  spring 
day. 

When  the  curtain  rises  the  stage  is  empty.  Immediately 
the  street  doors  open  and  Marty  peers  cautiously  into  the 
room..     He  then  enters  and  closes  the  door  behind  him. 

Marty.-  Hey!  Anybody  home?  (He  listens,  then  goes 
cautiously  to  the  door  at  the  right,  opens  it,  and  listens  again.) 

Hullo,  Nate,  are  y'  in  there?  (Evidently  satisfied  that  the 
room  is  empty,  he  tiptoes  across  to  the  door  at  the  left,  stands 
before  it  and  raps  softly  and  W'ith  precision.  He  then  squats 
down  and  addresses  the  occupant  of  the  room  through  the 
keyhole.) 

Pssst!  Toady!  (Receiving  no  response,  he  looks  about 
anxiously  and  again  speaks  into  the  keyhole,  in  a  slightly 
louder  voice.) 

Psst!  Toady. 

A  sleepy  voice  from  inside:  What  d'you  want? 

Marty.     Open  the  door.    It's  me,  Uncle  Marty. 

The  Voice:  Oh!  (A  bolt  is  shot  and  Toady  Fisher  stands 
on  the  threshold,  rubbing  his  eyes.  Marty  produces  two  bot- 
tles of  beer  and  a  paper  bag,  zchich  he  places  on  the  center 
table.) 

Toady.— (Stretching  his  arms.)     Oh  hum! 

1 

J 

655 


Marty.     Wake  up. . . I've  brought  ^er  breakfast. 
Toady. —  {Glancing  at  the  clock.)     You  took  yer  time  about 
it. 

Marty.  If  I'd  snuck  so  much  as  a  doughnut  out  of  our 
own  kitchen  yer  Aunt  Ehnira'd  been  wise  to  us  in  a  min- 
ute.    She's  tighter  than  the  skin  on  a  prize  pig,  she  is. 

Toady.     Well,  what  you  got? 

Marty.  A  couple  of  bottles  of  beer  and  a  fried  egg  sand- 
wich from  Hopper's  Hotel. 

Toady. —  {Examining  the  supplies.) — Huh,  is  that  all? 

Marty. —  {Looking  into  his  hat  ivhich  he  takes  off  for  the 
first  time.) — I  had  a  pair  of  fried  fish-cakes  in  the  top  of  my 
hat.  Guess  I  must  lost  'em  when  I  tipped  it  to  Mrs.  Sprud- 
der  down  by  the  corner. 

Toady. —  {Pulling  up  a  chair  to  the  table.) — Say  get  me  a 
glass  and  a,  plate,  can't  you? 

Marty. —  {Seizing  his  arm.) — Xo  you  don't;  not  out  here. 
They'll  spot  you  sure. 

Toady.     Rats !     Pa  wouldn't  have  m.e  arrested. 

Marty.  You  ain't  lived  with  him  for  sixty-seven  years 
like  I  have. 

Toady.  He  can't  pin  it  on  me  that  I  ever  seen  his  fifty 
dollars. 

Marty.  I  reckon  everybody  knows  it  left  town  along  about 
the  same  time  you  did. 

Toady. —  {Beginning  to  eat  the  sandn'ich.) — Well,  I  ain't 
got  it  now,  that's  a  cinch. 

Marty.  Look  here,  who's  running  this  family  reconcilia- 
tion, me  or  you? 

Toady. —  {His  month  full.) — Aw,  can  the  prodigal  son  stuff, 
can  it. 

Marty.     Xow,  Toady,  don't  go  and  spoil  it  all. 

Toady.  I  wouldn't  have  stoppe4  off  in  no  flea-bitten  burg 
like  this  only  I  was  sick  of  bumming  my  way  on  freights. 
All  I  want's  enough  coin  to  get  me  to  Chicago  like  a  gen- 
tleman. 

;Marty.  You  don't  know  how  much  I've  missed  you.  Why, 
I  can't  even  take  a  couple  of  drinks  no  more  without  cry- 
ing. Go  on  in  there  like  a  good  boy  and  mebbe  I'll  run  up  to 
the  barber  shop  and  borrow  the  police  gazette  for  you  to 
read. 

2 


Toady.— (Getting  np.)—l  give  you  fair  warning,  I  ain't 
going  to  sit  in  that  hole  all  day. 

Marty.  You'll  be  safe.  Even  Elmira  daresn't  put  her  foot 
in  my  room. 

Toady. —  (Picking  up  one  of  the  beer  bottles  and  the  sand- 
z.'ich  and  moving  toivard  the  door  at  the  left.) — Aw,  all 
right !     All  right ! 

^^Iarty.     I'll  steal   something  nice  for  your  dinner,  honest 
to  gawd  I  will.     Some  cold  banana  pudding. 
Toady.— (^-ran'/y)— AH  right!     All  right! 
(Marty  pushes  Toady  through  the  door  and  closes  it.) 
Marty.     Now  lock  it  on  the  inside.     An  don't  you  open 
your  head  except  I  give  you  the  high  sign. 

Toady.— (/row  inside)— AW  right!  (The  bolt  is  shot.  Mar- 
ty listens  a  moment  then  goes  back  to  the  center  table  and 
picks  up  the  remaining  bottle  of  beer  just  as  the  street  door 
opens  and  Elmira  Fisher  enters.  She  has  a  letter  in  her  hand.) 
Elmira— (nj  a  rasping  voice)— Well,  what  are  you  doing 
home  at  this  time  of  day? 

(Marty  startled,  turns  and  switches  the  bottle  of  beer  be- 
hind him.) 
Marty.     Eh  ? 

Elmira.    You  heard  what  I  said. 
AIarty.     So  help  me,  I — 

Elmira.     You've    been    drinking.      I    can    smell    it   on   you 
from  here. 
Marty.     That's  a  nice  way  for  a  sister  to  talk,  ain't  it? 
Elmira.     I'd  like  to  forget  I  was  your  sister. 
Marty.     I  ain't  laying  nothing  in  the   way  to  hinder  you 
trying.     (He  makes  a  move  tozvard  the  street  door.) 
Elmira.     Where  you  going  now? 

Marty.     Mebbe  I'm  going  back  to  sweep  the  court  house 
and  then  again  mebbe  I'm  going  fishing. 
Elmira.     Fishing!  Huh! 

AIarty.  Well,  fishing'-?  respectable,  aint  it?  It's  mention- 
ed in  the  Bible,  ain't  it?  I  guess  that'll  hold  you.  The  Lord 
said  to  his  disciples  go  out  and  dig  bait,  or  something— 

Elmira.     Martin  Henry  Fisher,  you're  a  blaspheming  good- 
for-nothing — 
Marty.    Aw,  dry  up! 

3 


Elmira.     You'll  lose  3'our  job,  and  serve  you  right,  too. 

Marty.  Needn't  let  that  wear  on  your  nose.  I'm  a  polit- 
ical appointee,  I  am.     I've  got  influence  in  Forkvilie. 

Elmira. —  {turning  on  him) — Influence!  You've  got  in- 
fluence all  right.  Bad  influence,  that's  what  you've  got.  It 
was  your  influence  made  a  thief  out  of  your  own  nephew  Ed- 
ward and  damned  his  immortal  soul  for  him. 

Marty.     I  ain't  responsible  for  Toady.     He  ain't  my  son. 

Elmira.     It  don't  matter  whose  son  he  is — 

Marty.    Aw,  lay  off! 

Elmira.     What's  that  you're  hiding  under  your  coat  tails  ? 

Marty. —  {realizing  that  further  concealment  of  the  beer 
bottle  is  useless) — Just  a  plain  bottle  of  beer  registered  un- 
der the  Pure  Food  Act  to  contain  five  per  cent,  alcohol. 

Elmira.  I  knew  it !  So  that's  what  you  keep  hidden  in 
that  pig-sty  of  a  room  of  yours.  {She  advances  toz^'ard  the 
door  at  the  left.) 

Marty. — {in  alarm) — Hold  on  there.     Where  you  going. 

Elmira.  To  bust  in  that  door  if  I  have  to  take  an  axe  to 
it.  I'm  going  to  clear  this  house  of  every  drop  of  devil's  rum 
you've  had  the  indecency  to  bring  into  it. 

Marty. —  {getting  betu'een  Elmira  and  the  door) — No  you 
don't!  I  own  one-third  of  this  house  the  same  as  you  and 
Nate.  Take  a  squint  at  that  sign  over  my  door.  "Trespassers 
will  be  prosecuted  to  the  full  extent  of  the  law."  You  keep 
out  of  my  place  and  I'll  keep  out  of  yours.  Don't  have  no- 
thing more  to  do  with  me  than  you  can  help  and  I'll  return 
the  favor,  all  right.  But,  by  cricky,  if  you  so  much  as  set 
one  of  your  flat  feet  acrost  that  sill,  I'll  have  a  warrant  out 
for  you.  {Marty  has  backed  up  against  the  door  and  Elmira 
stands  glaring  at  him.  Nathan  Fisher  enters  from  the  street 
unnoticed  in  time  to  hear  the  last  line.) 

Elmira. —  {to  Marty) — You — you  viper. 

Nate. —  (gruffly) — Here,    what's    going    on? 

Marty.     Howdy,  Nate.     I  was  just  going  out. 

Elmira.     It  would  be  a  God's  mercy  if  you'd  go  for  good. 

Nate. —  {coming  toi^'ard  the  table) — It  ain't  likely  he'll 
oblige  us  that  far.  What  can't  be  helped  has  got  to  be  en- 
dured. 

Marty.     Amen,  that  goes  for  both  sides  of  the  family. 


l^ATE.— (picking  up  the  letter  from  the  table  and  peering 
at  it) — When  did  this  come? 

Elmira.     I  just  fetched  it  from  the  postoffice, 

Xate. —  (feeling  in  his  pockets) — I  must  have  left  my  specks 
in  my  other  coat.  Here,  Marty,  where's  it  from?  (He  hands 
the  letter  to  Marty  and  sits  down.) 

Marty. —  (reading  from  the  corner  of  the  envelope) — Four- 
teen  eighteen   F   Street,   Washington,   D.    C. 

^ate.     Huh ! 

Elmira.     Give  it  here  to  me. 

Marty.     Don't  get  in  a  twitter.     I'm  doing  this. 

Xate.     Well,  why  don't  you  open  it?     (Marty  deliberately 
tears  open  the  envelope  and  shakes  out  the  letter.) 
Marty. —  (reading   from    the    letter.) 
Mr.   Xathan  Fisher,  Forkville,   Indiana. 

Dear  Sir:  Our  Mr.  Gray  has  again  looked  into  the  evi- 
dence upon  which  you  propose  to  base  your  fourth  appli- 
cation for  pension  as  a  veteran  of  the  Civil  War,  and  we 
regret  that  in  our  opinion,  it  is  not  sufficient  to  warrant 
us  in  going  further  with  the  case.  The  records  clearly  show 
that  you  were  drafted  into  the  army  March  14th.  1864,  and 
had  not  left  training  camp  at  the  close  of  hostilities. 

There  is.  however,  one  possibiHty,  to  which  we  call  your 
attention.  We  understand  that  the  Honorable  Bernard  P. 
Foss  is  a  fellow  citizen  of  yours.  Mr.  Foss  is  doubtless  well 
known  to  you,  and  if  willing  to  bring  his  personal  influence 
to  bear  in  your  behalf  could  undoubtedly  induce  the  Board  of 
Pensions  to  take  favorable  action. 

We  herewith  enclose  bill  for  services  to  date,  trusting  that 
they  have  been  entirely  satisfactory  and  that  our  suggestion 
in  regard  to  Mr.  Foss  will  prove  helpful. 
Yours  respectfully, 

DODSOX    &    GRIFFIX, 
Attorneys    at    Law. 
Xate. —  (with    bitter    resignation) — That    settles    it,    con- 
sarn  'em!     Old  Foss  wouldn't  lift  a  finger  if  I  was  drown- 
ing. 

Elmira.     How   much   is   the   bill? 
Marty.     Eighty-seven  dollars. 
Elmira.     The   robbers! 


Nate. —  (bctzcccii  his  teeth) — That's  it,  robbers!  The  hull 
country's  in  the  hands  of  a  bunch  of  dirty  political  crooks.  If 
fellers  like  Squire  Hines  and  Ted  Wilkinson  had  an  ounce 
of  red  blooded  patriotism,  the}-  wouldn't  stand  to  see  a  sol- 
dier of  the  Rebellion  turned  out  of  his  nation's  history. 

AIarty.     Haw  haw ! 

Elmira.  You  act  like  you  seen  something  funny  in  paying 
out  eighty-seven  dollars  for  nothing. 

Marty.  I  reckon  it  takes  a  smarter  liar  than  Xate  to  fool 
'em  in  Washington. 

Nate.  Who's  a  liar?  Ain't  I  marched  in  every  Decora- 
tion Day  parade  for  forty  years?  Ain't  I  a  mercber  of  the 
G.  A.  R.  Post,  Number  5s'inety-two  ? 

Elmira.  Not  to  count  being  a  deacon  and  an  officer  of  the 
Sunday  School. 

Marty.  Being  a  Bo's'un  in  the  Baptist  Church  don't  en- 
title   you    to    Clothing   this,    side    of    the    Golden    Gate. 

Elmira.     You're   a   low-down  blaspheming   likker   snake. 

Marty.  Well,  as  Toady  used  to  say,  mebbe  it's  better  to 
be  soaked  in  rum  than  vinegar.  (Elmira  begins  to  iK.'hiin- 
pcr.) 

Nate.  I  told  you  never  to  mention  that  scallywag's  name 
in  liis  house.  Ain't  it  enough  misfortune  to  be  cheated  out  of 
sixteen  hundred  dollars  back  pension  and  a  regular  pension 
twice  a  month  without  you  lorever  reminding  me  that  I'm  a 
father  of  a  thief? 

Marty. —  (glancing  apprehensively  at  the  bed-room  door)  — 
You  hadn't  ought  to  be  so  hard  and  unforgiving.  Like  as 
not  Toady'll  turn  out  a  credit  to  the  family  yet. 

Nate. —  (bitterly) — I  never  had  an  ounce  of  comfort  out  of 
him  all  the  days  of  his  life  and  I  never  expect  to. 

Marty.  Supposing  he  was  to  come  home — I'm  only  say- 
ing supposing. 

Nate. —  (bringing  his  fist  doivn) — I'd  have  him  in  jail, 
that's  where  I'd  have  him.  He's  a  liar  and  a  drunkard  and  a 
thief.  There  ain't  anything  bad  enough  to  call  him.  noth- 
ing! 

Marty.     Hold  on  !     You  don't  have  to  yell. 

Elmira.     There's   Squire   Hines   now. 

Nate.     Eh !      Who  ? 

Elmira.     Squire  Hines.     He's  coming  up  the  walk! 

Nate. —  (confused    between    his    anger    at    Toady    and    his 

6 


anger  over  the  pension) — He's  another  one  of  'em,  damn 
'em!  They're  all  of  a  piece,  conspiring  to  keep  a  man  out 
of  his  rights.    Darn  the  hull  pack  of  'em. 

Elmira.     Xate ! 

Xate.  He'd  better  keep  out  of  here.  I  got  scores  to  set- 
tle with  him. 

Marty.  You  ain't  thinking  of  the!  editorial  he  wrote  the 
time  Toady  was  up  for  throwing  the  dead  calf  down  Eben 
Fosdick's  well?  The  one  where  he  said  the  father  was  re- 
sponsible for  the  sins  of  his  son? 

Xate.     I  ain't  saying  what  I'm  thinking — 

AIarty.  'Cause  you'd  oughtn't  to  blame  a  newspaper  edi- 
tor for  thinking  things  out  in  an  uncommon  way.  {There  is 
a  knock  at  the  door.  Elmira  hesitates  and  looks  at  Xate.  The 
knock  is  repeated.) 

Nate. —  (to  Elmira) — You  heard  him  knock,  didn't  you. 
{Elmira   opens   fjie  street  door,  Squire  Mines,  enters  pomp- 
ously with  his  hat  in  his  hand.     The  others  regard  him  sus- 
piciously li'ithout  speaking.) 

Nate.    Well. 

HiXES.  Mr.  Fisher,  sir,  I  realize  that  under  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances I  would  not  be  a  welcome  visitor  in  your  home. 

Marty,     I  guess  you're  about  right  on  that. 

HiNES.  I  feel,  however,  that  in  view  of  what  has  so  re- 
cently and  unexpectedly  transpired,  all  petty  rancors  and 
animosities  should  be  swept  aside.  I  come,  friends,  as  the 
bearer  of  sad,  but  glorious  news,  which  tonight  will  thrill  the 
national  conscience  and  set  the  hearts  of  every  man  and  wom- 
an in  the   State  beating  high  with  pride  and  sorrow. 

Elmira.     Well,  we're  listening  to  you. 

HiNES.  To  be  as  brief  as  possible;  my  paper  has  just  re- 
ceived a  dispatch  from  the  Associated  Press,  dated  this 
morning. 

AIarty.  No  wonder  you're  excited.  I  bet  it's  about  the 
first  time  the  Bugle's  had  a  piece  of  news  less  than  a  couple 
of  days  old. 

HiNES. —  (impressively) — Your  levity,  sir,  is  ill  timed.  The 
dispatch  to  which  I  refer  recounts  the  heroic  death  of  your 
brother's  only  son,  Edward  Martin  Fisher. 

Marty.    Eh  ? 

Nate. —  (taken  back)— How's  that? 

Elmira.  It's  all  a  mistake.  Toady  wasn't  the  kind  to  ex- 
pose himself. 

7 


HixES.  So  I  thought  myself,  Miss  Fisher,  but  I  was 
wrong.  Toady,,  as  you  so  lovingly  call  him,  showed  him- 
self, when  ^the  crisis  came,  to  be  a  man  of  honor  fit  to  take 
his  place  beside  the  heroes  of  the  past. 

Marty. —  (zvith  a  glance  at  the  bed-room) — Say,  you  could 
knock  me  down  with  a  feather ! 

Nate.     Where  did  it  happen? 

HiXES.  At  Santa  Alaria  del  something-or-other,,  on  the 
Mexican  border,  the  Company  of  United  States  Cavalry  in 
which  your  son  had  enlisted — 

Elmira.  Xow  I  know  it's  a  mistake.  Toady  never  rode  a 
horse  his  life. 

HiXES. —  {ignoriugi  the  {)iterntptioii) — I  repeat,  sir,  his 
company  crossed  the  river  under  a  murderous  fire  to  dis- 
lodge a  party  of  snipers.  At  the  very  foot  of  the  enemy's 
position,  Edward  gloriously  gave  up  his  life  for  our  beloved 
flag,  the  first  American  killed. 

Marty. —  (zviping  his  face  icith   his  handkerchief) — Phew! 

Nate.     You're   sure   of   what  you're   saying? 

HiXES.  When  you  have  been  duly  informed  of  j'our  be- 
reavement by  the  War  Department,  the  remains  will  be  ship- 
ped here   for  interment,  via   El   Paso,  Texas. 

Marty.  I  never  was  a  funeral  fan  like  Elmira,  but  this 
here  corpse  is  one  I'll  take  a  heap  of  interest  looking  at. 

Elmira. —  {to  Mart\) — You're  a  callous,  unfeeling  rep- 
tile. 

HiNES.  I  have  no  wish  to  add  to  your  burden  of  afflic- 
tion, but  I  warn  you  in  advance  that  the  features  have  been 
mutilated  beyond'  recognition.  He  was  indentified  only  by 
the  card  sewed  in  his  uniform. 

Marty. —  {slapping  his  knee  as  a  light  suddenly  dazcns  on 
him) — Haw,  haw,  haw!     So  that's  it? 

Elmira. —  {sei::ing  Marty  by  the  collar) — So  that's  what? 

AIarty.  Take  your  hands  off  me.  I  got  a  right  to  be 
upset  by  my  grief  the  same  as  the  rest  of  you,  ain't  I? 

HiXES.  li  I  may  be  allowed  to  say  so,  your  grief  ought 
to  be  somewhat  tempered  by  the  knowledge  that  your  loss 
has  given  the  youth  of  America  an  example  of  noble  and 
self  sacrificing  courage. 

Nate.     I   knew   it. 

Marty.     Eh  ? 


Nate.  Any  son  of  mine  v/as  bound  to  have  the  right 
stuff  in  him.     Yes,  sir,  I  knew  it  all  along. 

Marty.    Well,  I'll  be  damned!. 

Nate.  And  it's  about  time  the  nation  waked  up  to  what 
me  and   mine  has   done    for  it. 

HiXES.  That's  just  the  point  I  was  coming  to.  We  have 
decided,  with  your  permission,  Mr.  Fisher,  to  hold  a  large 
public  demonstration  of  Pridd  and  Sorrow,  a  Military  fu- 
neral, the  expenses  of  which.  I  am  authorized  to  say,  will  be 
borne  jointly  by  the  Bugle.  Congressman-elect  Foss  and  the 
Honorable  Theodore  Q.  Wilkinson,  our  Democratic  candi- 
date  for   Sheriff  at  the  coming  county  elections. 

Marty.     Seems  to  me  the  offer  ain't  to  be  sneezed  at. 

HiNES.     To  be  perfectly  frank,  that's  the  way  I  look  at  it. 

Nate.     No  ! 

Elmira.     You  mean  you  ain't  going  to  let  them? 

Nate.  They  can't  pay  me  off  cheap  and  make  a  good  thing 
out  of  it  for 'themselves  at  the  same  time. 

HiNES.     Am   I   to   understand— 

Nate.  You're  to  understand  you  can't  make  nothing  off 
me.  I've  suffered  enough  for  my  country  and  been  disowned 
by  it.  I  ain't  going  to  sit  by  and  see  my  own  son's  funeral 
turned  into  a  rallv  for  the  Democrat?'-  party  that  wouldn't 
lift  a  finger  to  get  me  my  just  rights.  No,  sir!  He'Jl  be 
buried  with  only  family  members  and  close  personal  friends 
attending,  and  if  there's  any  credit  coming,  it  ain't  going  to 
the  bunch  of  political  shysters  that  has  turned  me  down. 

Hines.     I  give  you  my  word,  Mr.  Fisher— 

Marty.  Nate's  right  for  once.  If  he  lets  you  pull  votes 
for  Ted  Wilkinson  and  boom  the  circulation  of  the  Bugle, 
there  ought  to  be  something  in  it  besides  brass  bands  and 
immortelles. 

Nate.  I've  given  my  own  flesh  and  blood  that  might  have 
been  a  comfort  and  a  "support  to  me  in  my  old  age. 

Elmira.  It's  no  more'n  right,  they  should,'  do  something 
for   him. 

Hines.  I'm  deeply  pained  by  your  attitude,  deeply  dis- 
appointed. 

Marty.  It  don't  seem  exactly  fair  we  should  deprive  the 
Squire  of  a  chance  to  make  a  couple  of  speeches. 

Hines.  The  committee  are  at  the  Bugle  office  now,  draft- 
ing a  set  of  resolutions  which  we  had  intended  to  present  la- 

9 


ter  in  the  day    I  feel,  however,  that  under  the  circumstances, 
any  further  offer  from  us  might  be  misunderstood. 

Marty.  You  needn't  be  shy  about  making  a  proposition. 
This  ain't  a  sensitive   family. 

HixES. — (to  Nate) — In  that  case,  may  I  venture  to  sug- 
gest that  if;  Mr,  Foss  would  undertake  to  push  your  own 
claim  for  a  pension  and  that  if  the  Bugle  would  draft  and 
circulate  a   petition  endorsing  it? — 

Elmira.     Do  you  mean  that? 

Marty.  There's  sixteen  hundred  dollars  of  back  pension 
due  him,  according  to  his   own   reckoning, 

HiXES.  I  dare  say  the  Government  will  not  be  niggardly 
in  its  recognition  of  your  brother's  patriotic  service  when  the 
facts  are  presented  by  the  proper  fjersons. 

Nate. — I   ain't   saying  it's  a  bargain. 

Elmira,  If  there  was  some  way,  of  fixing  it  so  as  Xate's 
pension  was  mentioned  in  the  resolutions,  and  Mr.  Foss 
couldn't  crawl  out  of  i't  afterwards. 

Marty.  I  always  said  that  woman  had  ought  to  been  a 
lawyer. 

HiNES.    Well? 

Xate.     Mebbe  if  you  could   fix   it  like   Elmira   says. 

HiNES. —  {glancing  at  his  zvatch) — Done!  A  public  fu- 
neral it  is  then.  {He  has  lost  his  unctiousncss  and  the  others 
have  appare)itly  lost  sight  of  the  gravity  of  the  event  upon 
ZL'hich  they  are  basing  their  bargain.)  I'll  be  back  in  fifteen 
minutes    with    the   committed 

Xate.     I  ain't  promising  nothing  yet. 

HixES — {genially) — That,  sir,  to  put  it  vulgarly,  is  up  to 
us.  Good  morning  all.  (H^  goes  briskly  out  at  the  street 
door.     Elmira  goes  to  the  zvindoiv  and  looks  after  him.) 

Elmira. —  {thoughtfully) — Eighty-seven  dollars  from  six- 
teen hundred — 

Marty.  I  never  thought  twenty  minutes  ago  I'd  be  the 
uncle  of  a  hero  and  the  brother  of  a  bonyfidy  pensioned  vet- 
eran.     {He  fills  his  pipe.) 

Elmira.  Well,  it  won't  benefit  you  none.  You'll  pay 
your  keep  out  of  what  you  can  earn  for  yourself  same  as 
ever. 

Marty.  ]Mebbe  so  and  then  again,  mebbe  not.  {He 
strikes   a   match.) 

Elmira.     Don't  you  dast  light  that  pipe  in  here ! 

10 


Marty.    Aw,  close  your  face ! 

Xate.  It's  hard  enough  to  lose  an  only  son  without  hear- 
ing you  two  jawing  each  other. 

AIarty.  Yes,  and  mebbe  it's  a  darnsight  harder'n  you  think 
to   lose   a   son   like)  yours. 

Elmira.     What  d'you  mean  by  that? 

Marty.  There's  a  little  piece  of  business  has  got  to  be 
settled  amongst  ourselves  before  the  Squire  gets  back  with 
them   resolutions. 

Xate. —  (suspiciously) — Eh  ! 

Marty. —  {going  to  the  bed-room  door  and  opening  it)  — 
Hey!  Come  out  of  there.  {Toad\\  appears  in  the  doorivay 
— Xate  and  Elmira  regard  him  in  speechless  consternation,') 

Toady.     Howdy,   pa. 

Xate. — (bitterly) — So!  You  wasn't  killed  after  all? 

Marty.  At  least  his  face  ain't  any  worse  mutilated  than 
usual.  Come  on,  Toady,  don't  be  bashful.  You  ain't  buried 
yet. 

Elmira.     I  might  have  known  there  was  some  mistake. 

X'ate.  Mistake  nothing !  It's  a  game  they  put  up  on  me, 
the  two  of  'em.  Yes,  and  Hines  was  in  it,  and  Foss,  and  the 
hull  damn  bunch  like  as  not. 

Toady.     Xo  they  wasn't. 

AIarty.  This  here  is  just  a  quiet  family  funeral.  (He  be- 
gins  Miming   the  pages  of  the  family  album    on   the   table.) 

Xate.     I'll — I'll    get   even   with   you.      I'll — 

Toady.     There's   gratitude    for  yoa 

Elmira.     I  like  your  impnidefice. 

Toady.  It  ain't  every  son  has  done  as  much  for  his  old 
man  as  I've  done  for  you,  pa. 

X'ate.  I'll  call  the  constable  and  have  you  in  jail.  Yes, 
sir,  and  I'll  have  Marty — 

Marty.  You  needn't  pay  no  further  attention  to  me.  (He 
extracfs  a  photograph  from  the  album  and  goes  to  the  small 
table  where  he  opens  a  drau'er  and  takes  out  a  hammer  and 
some   tacks.) 

Xate. —  (to    Toady) — You   heard   what    I    said.      Xow   git! 

Toady.  I  ain't  in  no  particular  rush.  You  can't  pin  noth- 
ing on  me.  I'll  tell  'em  Aunt  Elmira  swiped  your  fifty  dol- 
lars  for  the   Baptist  mission.    (Marty  draws  a   chair   to   the 

11 


side   of  the  room,   climbs   on  it  and   begins   tackingi  up    the 
photograph  in  a  conspicuous  place.) 

Elmira. — You're  a  deserter  from  the  United  States  Arm3\ 
They'll  get  you  for  that  anyhow. 

Toady.  Say,  you  make  me  laugh.  When  I  heard  old  Hiny 
shooting  off  that  bunk  about  me  wading  acrost  the  Rio 
Grandy  with  a  flag  in  my  mit,  you  could  have  butchered  mt 
with   a   dish   rag. 

Marty. —  (pointing  zvith  his  hammer  to  the  flags  over 
Nate's  crayon  portrait.) — ^Will  you  reach  me  them  flags,  El- 
mira,  please? 

Elmira. —  (turning) — Eh?  Land  of  Goshen,  what  are  you 
doing  on  my  best  chair. 

Marty.  Just  putting  up  an  old  photo  of  the  dear  depart- 
ed for  his  loving  relatives  to  admire.  (He  gets  down  from 
the  chair  and  goes  for  the  flags  himself.) 

Toady.  That's  right.  You'd  ought  toi  have  a  decorated 
picture  of  the  Hero  of  Santa  Maria.  I  guess  you  can't  jump 
over  Uncle  Marty  for  a  sob  artist, 

Elmira. —  (advancing  on  Toady) — I'm  going  to  get  to  the 
inside  of  this  if  I  have  to  shake  the  skin  off  you. 

Toady.  Hold  on,  will  you,  I'm  busy.  (He  turns  to  Marty 
who  has  returned  zcith  the  flags  and  begun  adjusting  them.) 
Say,  Unk,  you're  sticking  them  flags  a  little  crooked. 

Nate.  If  Hines  and  Foss  ain't  putting  up  a  game  on  me, 
how'll  I  look  when  they  find  out? 

Toady.  I  guess  that's  something  you  got  to  figure  out 
for  yourself. 

Nate.  You've  fixed  my  chances  for  a  pension.  It's  a  con- 
spiracy ! 

Elmira.     Yes,  and  Marty  was  in  it. 

AIarty.  So  help  me,  I  never  laid  eyes,  on  Toady  till  he 
came  tapping  at  my  window   last   night. 

Elmira.     You  needn't  tell  me. 

Toady.  If  you  all  shut  up,  I'll  give  you  the  straight  dope. 
On  the  level,  I  will. 

Marty.  Make  it  short  if  you  don't  want  your  pa  to  have 
apoplexy. 

Toady.     I  met  a  feller  in  the  park  one  night  last  winter. 

Elmira.    What    park? 

Toady.  Madison  Square  Park,  New  York  City.  He  was 
a  little  red  headed  feller  with  bow  legs,  and  say  but  he  had 

12 


a   bad   eye,   believe   me !       His    name     was      Christian    Dane 
O'Houlihan. 

Elmira.     What's  that  got  to  do  with  it? 

Toady.     For  cat's   sake,   who's  telling  this,  me  or  you? 

Xate.     Let  him  alone. 

Toady.  *'Gee,"  I  sez  to  him,  "if  I  had  a  flossy  label  like 
\onrs,  I  bet  I  wouldn't  have  to  be  no  free  lunch  hound."  'Tf 
vou  like  it."  he  sez.  "you're  welcome  to  it.  You  can't  do  no 
worse  with  it  than  what  I've  done.  If  I  had  a  nice  plain 
name  like  Edward  ^Martin  Fisher,  I'd  go  and  enlist  in  the 
cavalry  with  it."  "Go  ahead,"  I  sez,  "you're  on."  So  we 
swapped  names  and  I  got  a  job  washing  dishes  in  a  dairy 
lunch. 

Marty.  And  the  red-headed  feller's  getting  shipped  from 
Santa  Maria  via  El  Paso,  Texas,  to  be  buried  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  local  option  Democrats  of  Forkville,  Indiana. 

Toady.  I  guess  that's  about  the  answer.  My  name  was 
more  unluckier  than  his'n. 

Elmira.  What  did  you  come  back  for?  Why  couldn't 
you  let  the  only  sensible  thing  you  ever  done  stay  done. 

Toady.  Oh,  I  got  a  heart  all  right.  I  almost  had  a  m.ind 
to  light  out  and  keep  my  mouth  shut  when  I  saw  how  puffed 
up  Pa  was  over  having  me  killed.  I'd  have  done  it,  too,  only 
I  heard  you  driving  that  bargain  with  Hines  aboirt  my  fu- 
neral. 

Elmir.\.  Well,  what  do  you  want?  I  know  you  want 
something. 

Toady.     I  give  you  just  one  guess. 

Xate.  No,  sir,  I  don't  give  him  a  cent.  I'll  be  doing  my 
country  another  service  by  putting  a  crook  like  him  behind 
the  bars. 

Toady.— (cheerfully) — All  right.  Turn  me  up  and  blooie 
goes    the    pension. 

Marty.  You  sort  of  owe  it  to  the  family  reputation. 
Kate,  to  keep  him  dead. 

Elmira.  If  your  pa  gives  you  twenty-five  dollars  will  you 
get  out  and  leave  us  be? 

Toady,  Come  around  to  the  other  ear.  You  don't  talk 
loud   enough. 

Xate.     I  tell  you  I  won't  be  a  party  to  no  fraud. 

Elmira.  That  ain't  the  question.  When  he's  gone  we  can 
decide  what's  best  according  to  our  own  conscience. 

13 


Marty.  I'd  like  to  put  some  money  on  the  way  'Miry's 
conscience'll   jump. 

Elmira. —  (to  Toady,  paying  no  aftentioii  to  Marty) — Sup- 
pose he  makes  it  fifty  dollars. 

Toady.  What  d'you  take  me  for.  a  boob?  I  guess  I  know 
what  me  and  the  red-headed  feller  has  done  for  pa  all  right. 
Twenty-five  per  cent.  cash.  Them's  my  best  terms.  (He  turns 
and  surveys  the  decorated  portrait.)  Say,  Uncle  Marty,  that 
looks  swell. 

Elmira.     I  never  heard  such  gall  in  my  life. 

Toady.  I  want  four  hundred  dollars,  or  I'll  walk  down 
the  street  to  Hopper's  Hotel,  and  get  drunk  where  the  hull 
town'll   see   me. 

Nate.  That's  a  fine  way  for  a  son  to  talk  to  his  father. 
Here's  Hines  and  Foss  come  around  to  do  the  right  thing 
after  ten  years'  crookedness  and  just  when  it's  all  fixed  up 
for  me  to  get  my  just  deserts — 

Marty.     Hold    on ! 

Elmira.  Yes  and  mebbe  your  pa'd  have  got  his  pension 
long  ago  except  for  your  carryings  on,  putting  everybody 
against  us. 

Toady.  Don't  make  me  laugh.  Everybody's  heard  how 
pa  tried  to  buy  a  substitute  when  he  was  drafted  only  he 
couldn't  raise  the  coin. 

Xate.     That's  a  lie,  you  blackmailing  young  skunk ! 

Toady.  I  got  my  feelings  the  same  as  other  people  and 
just  for  that  word  skunk  it'll  cost  you  an  extra  hundred  be- 
fore I  leave  this  house. 

Marty.  They'll  be  back  here  any  minute  v.'ith  them  res- 
olutions. 

Xate.— (n".f/;/^)— I'll— I'll— 

Marty.  You'll  get  your  regular  thirty  a  month  all  the 
same. 

Nate. — (to  Toady) — I'll — I'll — take  a  stick  to  you.  I'll 
beat  you  till  there  ain't  a  hull  bone  in  your  carcass.  (He 
seises  his  stick.) 

Toady.  All  right,  sail  in.  I  could  lick  you  with  one  hand, 
but  I'll  let  you  beat  me  if  you  want  to.  (Xate  makes  a  move 
toivard  Toady.) 

Elmira.     For  the  love  of  heaven,  Nate,  be  careful. 
Toady.     Only   for  every  belt  you  give  me,   I'll  holler  like 
the  Bull   of   Basham.     We'll  have  all  the  neighbors  in  here 

14 


to  see  you  basting  the  Hero  of  Santa  Maria.  (Xate  stands 
trembling  icitli   rage,   the  stick   clenched  in   his  hand.) 

Martv.  Walloping-  the  corpse  back  to  Hfe'll  settle  things 
quick  enough.  (A  band  is  heard  faintly  in  the  distance.  El- 
viira  puts  her  hand  suddenly  to  her  heart.) 

Elmira.  Glory  be!  What's  that?  {They  all  listen  a  mo- 
ment.) 

Marty.  It's  Hinie  coming  back  with  his  bandwagon  load 
of   Pride  and   Sorrow. 

Toady.— (f/uv/-/«//v)— Well,  Pa,  what's  the  good  word? 

Xate.    You — you — 

Toady.  I  meant  to  be  easy  on  you,  but  when  they  turn 
the  court-house  corner,  I'll  have  to  make  it  eight  hundred 
for  the  suspense  you're  causing  me. 

Xate. — (inarticulate  zi'ith  rage)— You  W— you'll— (T lie  mu- 
sic grozi'S  suddenly  louder.) 

Marty.  There  they  go  around  the  corner  into  Main 
street. 

Elmira. —  (i^-ringing  her  hands) — You  better  give  in,  Xate. 
Three  quarters  is  better'n  nothing. 

Toady.  It  ain't  three-quarters  any  longer.  I've  been  rea- 
sonable and  honest  but  you've  kir-d  of  pushed  me  too  far. 
I've  got  to  have  eight  hundred  cold,  iron  dollars. 

Elmira.  We  ain't  got  four  hundred  to  our  names,  let 
alone  eight  hundred.  (The  band  stop^  and  there  is  only 
the  sound  of  the  drums  tapping  a  sloic  inarch.) 

Toady.  I'll  take  one  hundred  in  cash  and  Pa's  note  for 
eight  hundred,  six  months  at  seven  per  cent,  interest.  Seven 
hundred  to  the  order  of  Christian  Dane  O'Houlihan,  that's 
me,  for  services  rendered,  and  the  rest  to  Uncle  ^Nlarty  for 
acting  as   my  agent.     How's  that,   Marty? 

Marty.     Sounds   fair  to  m.e. 

Toady.  Marty  can  hold  the  notes  and  if  they  ain't  taken 
up  on  the  dot.  I'll  come  back  and  we'll  all  get  jugged  to- 
gether  for   defrauding   the   Government. 

;Marty. —  (tiS  the  z^'indoiu) — You  better  decide  pretty  quick, 
Xate.     They're  almost  in  front  of  the  house. 

Xate.  Xo,  by  God!  You  can't  rob  a  man  that's  been 
honest  all  his   life.     I'll— 

Marty.  They're  stopping  in  the  gate.  Foss  has  got  his 
plug  hat  ^on. 

15 


Xate.  They  ain't  here  any  too  quick  to  suit  me.  I'll  have 
the  both  of  you  up  for  robbery  and  blackmail. 

Elmira.     You'd   better  think  what  you're   doing,   Nate. 
Xate.     That's  fine  advice  for  a  deaconess  to  give,  ain't  it? 
Elmira.     I'm  only  thinking  what's  best  in  the  end. 
Nate.     No,    sir !      I'm    honest  and  I'll  see  you  all  damned 
before   I'll — 

Toady. —  (sootliiiigly) — It's  all  right.  Pa.  I  know  you  ain't 
yourself.  I'm  going  back  in  Uncle  Marty's  room  and  if  you 
want  to  go  through  with  it,  the  stuff's  on.  I  meail  it,  I'll  skin 
out  tonight  and  stay  a  corpse.  (He  picks  up  the  bottle  of 
beer  from  the  table.)  Of  course,  if  you  want  me  to  come 
and  get  pinched,  all  you  got  to  do  is  call  me. 

Nate. —  (sullenly) — I  ain't  saying  what  I'll  do.  (There  is 
another  knock.  Toady  goes  into  the  bed-room  and  closes 
the  door  softly.  Elmira  goes  to  the  s&eet  door  and  opens 
it,  disclosing  Foss,  Mines  and  Wilkinson.  Foss  wears  a  frock 
coat  and  carries  a  silk  hat  in  one  hand  and  a  roll  of  papers 
in  the  other.  The  three  dignitaries  advance  into  the  room. 
Behind  than  is  a  group  of  neighbors  framed\  in  the  door 
zvay.  Wilkinson  shakes  Xate  by  the  hand  rather  abruptly 
and  awkardly.) 

Wilkinson. —  (attempting  to  come  at  once  to  the  point)  — 
Howdy,  Mr.  Fisher.  The  Squire's  (he  indicates  Mines  zvith 
a  hitch  of  his  thumb)  already  put  you  wise  to  what  we're 
here   for. 

HiNES, —  (cutting  in  on  Wilkinson  and  taking  Kate's  re- 
luctant hand) — Quite  so!  (Me  points  to  the  decorated  por- 
trait.)— See,  gentlemen,  what  loving  hands  have  already  done. 
Nothing  we  can  say  or  do  more  sincerely  voices  the  poig- 
nancy of  this  moment  than  those  simple  flags  and  that  sim- 
ple photograph. 

Foss.— (taking  Xate's  hand  in  turn) — In  this  room,  sir, 
where  the  hero  of  the  Santa  Maria  so  recently  lived  and  had 
his  being — (Marty  glances'^  apprehensively  at  the  bed-room 
door) — our  sympathy  must  seem  a  poor  and  inadequate 
thing — 

Nate.     I   ain't   said   I   wanted  your   sympathy,   I — 

Elmira. —  (cutting  in) — Don't  mind  what  he  says,  Mr. 
Foss.     He's  been  that  upset — 

Foss. —  (^till  zvringiuf^  Nate's  /;a;irf)— Spartan  firmness, 
M'am.     I  admire  him  for  it. 

16 


Wilkinson.  I'll  just  leave  some  of  my  campaign  cards  on 
vour  table  in  case  the  neighbors— (Hi;/ r^  shoots  him  on  ugly 
look.) 

Foss.  We  will  not  intrudq  on  you  long,  Mr.  Fisher.  I 
have   delegated  myself — 

Wilkinson.     Been  delegated. 

Foss.  Been  delegated  by  the  citizens  of  Forkville  to  act 
as  their  spokesman  on  this  solemn  occasion  and  to  read  you 
these  er —  {he  adjusts  his  eyeglasses.) 

Wilkinson.    You'll  find  them  O.  K.,  Mr.  Fisher. 

HiNES.  W^e  have  inserted  a  clause  explicitly  recognizing 
your  own  patriotic   services. 

Marty.     D'you  hear  that,  Xate? 

Xate.  Yes,  I  hear  it.  But  I  got  something  to  say  first. 
(Elmira  plants  a  ehair  against  the  bed-room  door  and  sits 
dozi'H  in  it.) 

Foss. — (unrolling  his  document.) — Spare  yourself,  my 
friend.  We  all  know  the  strain  you've  been  laboring  under. 
Perhaps,  later  at  the  public  demonstration — (Xate  glances  at 
him.) 

HiNES.  The  Governor  and  Senator  Tinblatter  have  wired 
us — 

Wilkinson.  Say.  that's  a  fine  stunt.  A  little  talk,  eh? 
Telling  the  folks  how  Edward  wasj  always  a  good  Demo- 
crat.  {Xate  glares  at  him.) 

HiNES.  The  Governor  and  Senator  Tinblatter  have  wired 
us  promising  to  speak.     Perhaps  after  that. 

Elmira.  D'you  hear.  Xate?  The  Governor  and  Senator 
Tinblatter. 

Xate.     I   ain't   said  there'd  be   no  demonstration. 

Marty.  You'll  be  getting  telegrams  from  Washington 
next.  \ 

Wilkinson.  You  bet!  Joe  Finks  is  on  the  piazza  now 
with  a  fist  full.  {A  man  steps  forzcard  from  the  group  in 
the  doorzi'ay  and  hands  Xate  a  packet  of  yellozi'  envelopes. 
Xate   looks  at   fJieni    helplessly.)  ] 

Marty.  The  hull  Democratic  party's  going  to  see  this 
thing  done   up  right. 

Foss. —  (clearing  his  throat  and  reading  from  the  paper)  — 
We,  the  citizens  of  Forkville.  Indiana,  offer  the  following: 
Whereas,  this  day  has  become  for  us  a  day  of  er — 

Marty. —  (under  his  breath) — Pride  and   sorrow. 

17 


Elmira.— (/'(^  Marfy)—Shut  up! 

Foss.  Whereas,  facing  his  country's  foes  on  foreign  soil 
Edward  Martin  Fisher,  son  of  our  respected  citizen,  Nathan 
Fisher,  himself  an  intrepid  defender  of  our  national  exist- 
ence in  the  Civil  War,  yesterday  gave  up  his  life; 

Whereas,  by  his  courageous  death  and  example,  the  said 
Edward  Alartin  Fisher  has  performed  an  inestimable  serv- 
ice to  each  and  everyone  of  us — 

Marty.     That's   right! 

Foss.  Be  it  resolved,  that  we  evidence!  our  esteem  and 
gratitude  fto  the  bereaved  father  by  circulating  an  endorse- 
ment of  his  own  claim  to  the  proper  and  lawful  pension  here- 
tofore unaccountably  denied  him  by  the  national  government. 

And  be  it  further  and  finally  resolved,  that  Edward  Alartin 
Fisher  be  buried  with  full  military  honors  and  all  other  tok- 
ens of  love  and  respect  of  which  this  city  and  the  Sovereign 
State  of  Indiana  are  capable. 

(Signed)         BERNARD  P.  FOSS, 

Member  of  Congress, 
JAMES  MERRYWEATHER  HINES, 
THEODORE  Q.  WILKINSON, 

Committee    on    Arrangements. 

(Foss  rolls  up  the  paper.  Elmira,  unable  to  stand  the  ten- 
sion, sobs  in  partial  hysieria.  Xate's  face  has  undergone  va- 
rious changes  during  the  reading.  He  is  rapidly  losing  his 
desire  for  revenge  on  Toady  under  the  influence  of  the  adu- 
lation of  his  neighbors.  He  stands  undecided,  crumpling  the 
telegrams  in  his  hand.) 

Wilkinson.     I  guess   that   about   covers   it.   (They   all  re- 
gard Nate  as  if  expecting  a  definite  ansiver.) 

Marty. —  (seeing  that  Nate  has  practically  given  in) — You 
better   say   something,   Nate. 

Nate.  I — I  don't  know  exactly  how  to  put  it,  gentle- 
men— 

Marty.     You  was(  mighty  keen  to   talk  a   minute   ago. 

Elmira. —  (betzveen  her  sobs,  afraid  that  Marty  may  spoil 
everything) — Let  him  alone,  can't  you. 

Nate... It's  all  come  on  mQ  sort  of  sudden-like,  but  I 
guess  I  know  what  I  done  for  the  United  States, — yes,  and 
what  my  son  Edward  done  for  'em,  too. 

The  Crowd  in  the  Doorway.     Hear !  Hear ! 

Nate.     I'd  kind  of  set  my  heart  on  a — a — 

18 


^^Iarty.     a  quiet,  family   funeral — 

Foss.     Exactly,  but  under  the  circumstances — 

Xate.  It  ain't  for  me  to  set  myself  up  against  what's 
expected  of  me. 

Wilkinson. —  (extending  his  hand)— Fut  it  here,  iMr.  Fish- 
er. 

HiNES.     Then   we're\  to    understand? 

Xate.     I  reckon  I  got  to  accept  your  resolutions. 

Foss.— (shaking  Xate  by  the  hand)— I  can  see  how,  sir. 
that  your  son  was  a  chip  off  the  old  black. 

Marty.     That's  about  the  truest  thing  anybody's   said  yet. 

Curtain. 


A  complete  list  of  The  Stage  Guild  Plays  will  be  found 
on  the  next  page. 


19 


By  Kexxeth   Saw\t:r  Goodman. 

THE  GREEN  SCARF;  a  comedy  in  one  act. 

THE  GAME  OF  CHESS;  a  play  in  one  act. 

EPHRAIM  AXD  THE  WINGED  BEAR;  a  Christmas 
Eve    Nightmare. 

DUST  OF  THE  ROAD ;  a  play  in  one  act. 

DANCING  DOLLS  ;   a  comedy  in  one  act. 

BACK  OF  THE  YARDS;  a  play  in  one  act. 

BARBARA;  a  plav  in  one  act. 

A  MAN  CAN  ONLY  DO  HIS  BEST;  a  comedy  in  one 
act. 


By  Kexxeth   Sawyer  Goodmax  axd   Bex   Hecht 
THE  HERO  OF  SANTA  MARIA ;  a  comedy  in  one  act. 
THE  WONDER  HAT;  a  fantasy  in  one  act. 


By  Kexxeth  Sawyer  Goodmax  axd  Thomas  Wood  Stevexs 

HOLBEIN  IN  BLACKFRIARS;  a  comedy  in  one  act. 

THE  DAIMIO'S  HEAD;  a  masque. 

THE  MASQUE  OF  MONTEZUMA;  in  five  scenes. 

CAESAR'S   GODS ;   a   bvzantine  masque. 

RAINALD  AND  THE  RED  WOLF;  a  masque. 

A    PAGEANT    FOR   INDEPENDENCE   DAY;    in    four 
scenes. 


By  Thomas  Wood  Stevens 
THREE  WISHES;  a  comedy  in  one  act. 


By  Thomas  Wood  Stevexs  axd  Wallace  Rice 
THE  CHAPLET  OF  PAN;  a  masque. 


Each    50    cents,    postpaid. 

FRANK    SHAY 

26-28   Horatio  Street.  New  York  City 

20 


Stewart  Kidd 
Modem  Plays 


Edited  by  FR.\NK  SHAY 
To  meet  the  immensely  increased  de- 
mands of  the  play-reading  public  and  those 
interested  in  the  modern  drama,  Stewart 
&-  Kidd  Company  are  issuing,  under  the 
general  editorship  of  Frank  Shay,  a  series 
of  plays  from  the  pens  of  the  world's  best 
contemporary  writers.  No  effort  is  being 
spared  to  secure  the  best  work  available, 
and  the  plays  are  issued  in  a  form  that  is 
at  once  attractive  to  readers  and  suited  to 
the  needs  of  the  performer  and  producer. 
The  titles  are : 

SHAM  -  -  By  Frank  G.  Tompkins 

THE  SHEPHERD  IN  THE  DISTANCE 

By  Holland  Hudson 
MANSIONS  -  -         By  Hildegarde  Planner 

HEARTS  TO  MEND         -         By  H.  A.  Overstreet 

Others  to  follow  shortly 

Bound  ill  Art  Paper.  50c  to  75c  each. 

FRANK  SHAY 
26-28  Horatio  St.,  New  York 


21 


MORMIMGSIDE 
PLAYERS 


THE  MORNINGSIDE  PLAYS 


HATTIE;  a  drama.     By  Elva  De  Pue. 
ONE  A  DAY;  a  comedy.     By  Caroline  Briggs. 
MARKHEIAI;    a   dramatization.     By   Zellah   MacDonald. 
THE    HOME    OF    THE    FREE;    a    comedy.      By    E.    L. 


Reizenstein. 

(Introduction    bv 


Barrett    H. 
22 


Clark.) Paper,   75c 


The  Provincetown 
Plays 


Edited  and  Selected  by 
George  Cram  Cook  and  Frank  Shay. 

A  record  of  the  work  of  the  most  serious 
and  important  of  all  new  theatre  move- 
ments in  America.  The  plays,  which  are 
distinctively  American,  are  a  notable  con- 
tribution to  our  stage,  and  go  far  towards 
indicating  America's  place  in  the  world  of 
the  theatre. 

The  contents  are: 
ARIA  DE  CAPO     -      By  Edna  St.  Vincent  Millay 
STRING  OF  THE  SAMISEN    -   By  Rita  Wellman 
NIGHT  -  -  By  James  Oppenheim 

THE  ANGEL  INTRUDES         -  By  Floyd  Dell 

SUPPRESSED  DESIRES       -  ,  ^         ^,        „ 

By  George  Cram  Cook  and  Susan  Glaspell 
BOUND  EAST  FOR  CARDIFF       -       ^   _,^,    ,, 
By  Eugene  G.  O'Neill 
COCAINE  -  -  By  Pendleton  King 

ENEMIES  -  ByNeithBoyceandHutchinsHapgood 
NOT  SMART  -  By  Wilbur  Daniel  Steele 

THE  WIDOW'S  VEIL         -         By  Alice  Rostetter 

Octavo.  sUk  cloth,  iHt  top.  net  $3.00. 

FRANK  SHAY 

26-28  Horatio  St.,  New  York 


u= 


Fifty 
Contemporary 
One-Act  Plays 

Edited  and  Selected  t>> 
Frank  Shay  and  Pierre  Loving 

This  volume  contains  fifty  representa- 
tive one  act  plays  of  the  modern  theatre, 
chosen  from  the  dramatic  works  of  con- 
temporary writers  all  over  the  world.  Some 
of  the  countries  represented  are :  Austria, 
Belgium,  Bolivia,  France,  Germany,  Hol- 
land, Hungary,  Great  Britain,  India,  Ire- 
land, Italy,  Russia,  Spain,  Sweden,  United 
States  and  the  Yiddish  Theatre. 

The  editors  have  scrupulously  sifted 
countless  plays,  and  have  selected  the  best 
available  in  English. 

Both  Frank  Shay  and  Pierre  Loving  have 
been  connected  for  many  years  with  little 
theatres  in  the  United  States.  This  has  af- 
forded them  an  exceptional  opportunity 
for  testing  the  validity  of  many  one  act 
plays,  both  as  to  their  literary  value  and 
dramatic  possibilities  in  actual  production. 
An  exhaustive  bibliography  will  be  found 
at  the  end  of  the  volume. 

Special  Circular  Ui>on  Request. 

Lartfe  Sto.  oloth  r^ot  S5.00 

FRANK  SHAY 

26-28  Horatio  St..  New  York 


